For the Love of a Woman
by Ava Ward
Summary: When an unwelcome guest visits Camelot, Arthur finds his patience put to the test, and Guinevere finds herself the object of unwanted attention. Rated T just to be safe . This is my first Merlin fanfic; please read and respond.
1. Chapter 1: An Unwanted Guest

**Author's Note: This story is based sometime after season 2 of Merlin. I know that a lot of Merlin fans are watching season 4, but my only access to the show is through DVD. Season 3 will not be available in the U.S. until January. **

**If you've not seen season 2, do not read this paragraph, as it is rife with spoilers. So, to recap for those who might not remember where season 2 ended, Merlin poisoned Morgana to save Camelot. Morgause broke off her attack on the kingdom to rescue her sister and vanished with Morgana, presumably to concoct a healing potion. Merlin released the great dragon, only to have it terrorize the realm. He and Arthur embarked on a quest to find the last dragon lord, Merlin inherited his father's gifts, and the great dragon was sent away to never terrorize Camelot again. Arthur and Merlin return to the castle victorious, and alive, drawing season 2 to an end.**

**With all that said, I hope you find this story entertaining, or – at the least – readable.**

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><p><span>An Unwelcome Guest<span>

The dining hall of Camelot shone brightly in the flickering candlelight, but Arthur was oblivious to the splendor. Instead, he found his attention focused on his father's guest, a delegate from a distant kingdom. The man was pompous and rude. Jeffries of Kabbagia was a solid figure, whose obnoxious tone grated on Arthur's nerves each time he pretentiously referenced his title as the Emissary for Kabbagia. It sounded more like _Cabbage-ah_ on Jeffries' lips than the accurate pronunciation of _Ka-beige-e-ah_. Though, were he to be honest, Arthur's dislike of the man stemmed more from his ogling of the maids – one in particular – who served the evening meal than his inability to correctly articulate the name of his kingdom. Listening to the drone of conversation, Arthur quietly wished for the last course to be served. The sooner the food was gone, the sooner the servants would withdraw from the room, and the less likely he would be to cause strife between the two kingdoms by stabbing the Kabbagian delegate with his dinner knife….

Oblivious to the dangerous looks he was receiving from Arthur, Lord Jeffries sat leering at the serving women as they moved about the table. His unabashed interest made Gwen's skin crawl. She was quite certain that if Uther had not been present, the man would have been so bold as to pinch every woman within reach. For the first time she could remember Gwen was actually thankful to be in the king's presence. She was grateful when the meal was over, and she could retreat from view. The rest of her evening passed quickly as she finished up her chores. She had a group of linens to deliver to the west end of the castle before she could retire, and so Gwen headed down the west corridor laden down with her bundle. She had just passed the giant marble urn that marked the midpoint of the hallway when Jeffries stepped out of the shadows, blocking her way. Casting her gaze downward, Gwen stepped to the side to pass him, but he followed her movement. When she tried to move around him in the other direction, Jeffries again mirrored her steps. Gwen came to a halt and decided she would have to speak to him.

"Forgive me, sir." She was sure to use a tone of servitude void of any emotion.

"My dear girl, what is there to forgive?" The words seemed innocent enough, but she could not deny the uneasiness that seemed to settle in the pit of her stomach. Something about this man set her on edge. His next words only served to make the corridor seem a desolate, lonely place. "I am thankful for every moment I'm given in the presence of such a lovely creature."

"You flatter me, sir. I am not worthy of such a compliment," Gwen replied, taking a step backward. Jeffries matched her movement and stopped only inches away from the bundle of cloth she now grasped as though it were a shield.

"You are worthy of so much more than just my compliments." As he spoke, he moved closer, and Gwen found that she had backed up against the ornamental urn.

"My lord! I am but a servant!" The words seemed desperate even to her own ears, but Gwen felt cornered by this man, as though he stalked her for his prey. Much to her dismay, he clutched her chin and tilted her head back so that she was forced to meet his gaze.

"Yes," he agreed in a tone that sent a ripple of fear coursing down her spine. "You are but a servant." His free hand knocked the linens from her grasp before he pulled her close, groping at the curves of her dress as she desperately tried to push him away. Gwen managed to slap him hard enough that his grip loosened as he swore at her impudence. Unfortunately, she was not able to break away and saw him raise his hand to cuff her in response. She had no way to deflect him and braced herself for the blow, but it did not come. His swing was stopped in midair by a hand that wrapped about his arm and shoved him backward, sending him sprawling to the ground.

"How dare you," Jeffries sputtered at whichever servant had been so bold as to interfere. He regained his footing, straightened, and nearly recoiled when he found not some insolent serving boy but Arthur Pendragon blocking the view of his enticing query. Were it possible, the cold blue gaze would have turned him into stone, adding another statue to the castle's decor. Facing Pendragon's immobilizing glare, he felt prodded to offer a defense and, finding his voice, hastily changed the tenor of his words from disdain to appeasement. "Prince Arthur-"

"How dare _you,_ Jeffries," Arthur cut in, uncertain of how he would react to any excuse this man might render. "You've no right to accost any woman, much less one under my protection." He watched Jeffries scowl at the rebuke and fought the urge to ram the man's teeth back into his throat.

"She's just a serving girl, sire." Jeffries' tone – let alone his words – did little to restrain Arthur's sudden desire for bloodshed. He reigned in his anger by sheer will power, telling himself that breaking Jeffries' jaw would not be a sight Guinevere would wish to see. Out of deference to her presence, Arthur took a deep breath and settled for threatening the man instead.

"It is my duty to protect _all_ within Camelot," he stated with cold clarity. "If I ever catch you treating another woman in this manner," his voice dropped as his words took on an unquestionable solemnity, "I _will _kill you." Arthur let the gravity of his anger ebb through his entire being so that his stance became as menacing as the icy flames that filled his gaze. He watched Jeffries swallow and then attempt to clear his throat before taking a step backward.

"Forgive me, my lord." His voice was slightly higher, but Jeffries managed to regain his usual tone as he added, "I must've had too much to drink at dinner. Accept my apologies, Prince Arthur." With that, Kabbagia's delegate quickly retraced his steps, disappearing into the shadows. Arthur waited until he was gone before turning to check on Guinevere only to find that she had already slipped away, leaving him in a vacant hallway.

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Gwen hurried from the castle. Once Arthur had intervened, she had hastily retrieved her bundle and made her escape while Jeffries was occupied with Camelot's heir to the throne. Gwen had no wish to be the source of a quarrel, and she wished to evade Jeffries' attention as quickly as possible. She had hurried to finish her task, taking a route that was longer but harder to follow. After winding in and out of various castle corridors to deliver her linens, Gwen had left out one of the servant's doors and headed for the drawbridge.

Now as she proceeded into the lower town, Gwen wanted nothing more than to reach her home. The dark streets seemed deserted and almost threatening. The incident with Jeffries had made her apprehensive, and she caught herself being startled by mere shadows. Sounds that were a common part of her nightly walk home now seemed unnaturally loud in the moonlit darkness. Belatedly, Gwen wished she had not left the castle alone. She should have waited until one of the other serving women had finished her chores or, at the least, asked for Merlin's company.

She had to pass The Rising Sun, and though none of its patrons had ever bothered her in the past, Gwen felt it best to hurry past the tavern as quickly as possible. Her feet began to move faster until she was almost running down the street. Solely focused upon reaching her door, Gwen did not see the cloaked figure that kept to the darker recesses of houses and shops while following in pursuit. As though a wayward spirit hunted for its grave, the apparition silently slipped from shadow to shadow until melting into the darkness behind Gwen's small dwelling as she hastily entered her home and barred the door.

Gwen was thankful for the shoemaker's wife who frequently stopped by in the evening to set a slow burning fire in the hearth so that she needn't enter a darkened room when returning from the castle in the late hours of the night. Tonight, however, the flickering light, which usually dispelled most of the gloom, cast dancing shadows across the floor and into the dim corners, cloaking the chamber in a sinister aura. Gwen removed her cloak, hanging it on the hook by the door; then moved to light a candle only to pause with it suspended in midair as a creak emanated from the back of her house.

Gazing into the blackness that hovered just behind the curtains that partitioned her home, Gwen could not recall if she had latched the backdoor before leaving for her morning duties. Could someone be in her house? Or was she simply jumping to conclusions? It was possible that she was merely unnerved from her experience with Jeffries, but Gwen was not willing to shrug off her anxiety so quickly. Besides, she would never be able to relax until she had made certain the backdoor was secure. She kept one of her father's daggers hidden beneath her mattress and hastily moved to retrieve it before cautiously edging toward the back of her dwelling. Cautiously, Gwen moved the thin curtain aside and peered into the shadows lurking behind the wooden screen.

A movement in the darkness sent her into action. Gwen thrust her blade forward only to have her wrist caught in a firm grip before she was swung about so that her back rested against the intruder as he wrapped one arm around her waist, causing the hand with which she held the dagger to be pinned against her hip, while his free arm encircled her upper torso and his palm covered her mouth. Cold fingers of panic clawed up her spine at the touch of his breath on her neck when he leaned down so that his lips were only inches from her ear.

"Guinevere." As soon as he had gently whispered her name, Arthur felt her collapse against his chest. The dagger clattered to the floor with a muffled sob of relief that shuddered against the hand he held over her lips. Realizing how frightened she had been, Arthur mentally scolded himself and loosened his hold, intending to apologize. Before he could ask her forgiveness, however, Guinevere turned in his arms and buried her face in his shirt, clinging to him in a silent plea for safety. Deciding words were of no use, Arthur offered her his strength instead, tightening his embrace to provide the refuge she sought and resolving that nothing – neither man nor beast – would move him from his position until Guinevere regained a sense of security and no longer trembled with fear.

Long after her tremors had faded, she expelled a deep sigh that sent her warm breath through the cloth of his shirt to spread across his skin, causing Arthur to marvel that such a simple action could have so profound an effect upon him. Had his senses always been this keen or were they sharpened by her proximity? Oblivious to his thoughts, Guinevere leaned back, prompting Arthur to loosen, but not relinquish, his hold so that she could meet his gaze.

"You should not be here," she softly rebuked.

"I couldn't let you walk home unescorted," he countered in a warm tone. Her eyes softened for only a moment before her reservations returned.

"I am not a lady of the court, my lord," was her candid response. "I am a servant, nothing more." She applied a gentle pressure to the hands resting against his chest, attempting to pull away. Arthur chose to ignore the gesture, as she softly added, "You are the future king." Her voice was filled with a regret that urged him to counter her resolve with an impish grin.

"I was told that a good king respects his people," his light tone turned tender, "no matter who they are."

"You've mistaken the meaning of my council, sire." Though her words suggested he relinquish his hold, her eyes implored him to never let go; giving him hope that she was affected by his presence just as her mere gaze seemed to pierce his soul.

"Really?" The playful doubt with which he posed the question brought the hint of a smile to the corners of her mouth. "Just as I misinterpret the way you look at me, I suppose." Unable to deny what they both knew to be true, she glanced down at his shirt, collecting her thoughts, before meeting his eyes with a determination that told him she would neither concede nor argue the point further.

"Thank you, Arthur," she redirected their exchange. The effect of hearing his name on her lips was so overpowering that he resisted the buffoonish grin that threatened to overtake him by sheer willpower alone. "I appreciate what you did, and it was kind of you to ensure that I reached my home without incident." Once more Guinevere gently pulled away, and Arthur reluctantly allowed her to withdraw from his embrace. "But you should return to the castle." He watched her move to the hearth and add another log to the dimming fire. "I am not the only serving woman to need protection from Lord Jeffries' advances."

"He won't have the chance," Arthur replied. He retrieved the dagger she had dropped on the floor, offering her the handle when she turned toward him, urging him to explain. "I ordered the palace guards to keep an eye on him." Guinevere took the weapon, returning the blade to its hiding place beneath her mattress.

"What if that's not enough?" she asked as she moved to sit on the bench closest to the hearth, her eyes resting on the flickering flames. "It is not easy, but the guards can be avoided." She put on a brave front, but he could sense the anxiety that still lingered due to Jeffries' behavior.

"I spoke with Durwood," Arthur stated, referring to the head of the castle's staff, "and left instructions that no handmaiden was to set foot in any room our visitor occupied. For the remainder of his stay, only male servants are to do his bidding even if I have to send Merlin to deal with him."

"Poor Merlin," she sympathized. "You wouldn't really make him tend to that man, would you?" Arthur gave a shrug and pulled back the cloak that hung from his shoulders before joining her on the bench.

"Why not? A day or two of Merlin's service would frighten Jeffries away better than any threat I could make," he sarcastically replied, "what with the boiling bathwater and rat soup…"

"Surely he has never served you rat soup!" Her disbelieving tone was edged with a hint of laughter, urging Arthur to make his response droll in hopes of lightening her mood further.

"Oh yes, it is no exaggeration that he is the _worst_ servant I've ever had." Guinevere met his gaze, and they shared a smile at his dry humor. "But," Arthur added out of fairness to Merlin, "He is the most loyal." She nodded in agreement and then stared back at the hearth. Arthur followed her gaze, watching the fire grow as the flames licked over the fresh piece of wood. A few minutes later, Guinevere leaned over to rest her head against his shoulder with a contented sigh, and Arthur found himself rooted to the spot, unwilling to move lest she withdraw.

A peaceful silence filled the room as the minutes melted into a timeless blur. Arthur caught himself wishing he could remain there forever but knew it was not possible. One day that would change. He would be free to openly court Guinevere, and woe be to any naysayers who dared question if she was worthy of his pursuit. _Anyone insulting Gwen should do so at extreme peril. _Merlin had been right; proving himself more perceptive than Arthur wished to admit. Were he to question his feelings for Guinevere he had only to remember his reaction to Jeffries' assault. Arthur knew that his lack of a sword was the only thing that had spared the life of the Kabbagian representative. Even now, he still battled with the desire to run the man through. The knowledge that Guinevere would feel responsible for Jeffries' death kept him in check.

When had she come to hold such power over him? Arthur wondered if she understood the strength of her influence. He had braved the wilddeoren infested caves of Andor, scaled the walls of Hengist's keep, and endured the stinging scratch of the great dragon to ensure her safety while overruling his father's sentencing of Gaius and surviving Olaf's challenge of mortal combat because it was what she had asked of him. _Live for me, Arthur_. Like the echo of his own heart, that one request pulsated through his very being each time he confronted a new foe bent on his destruction. 'For the love of Camelot' might be the battle cry on his lips, but it was for the love of a woman that he persevered.

As these thoughts played across his mind, Arthur became aware that Guinevere had grown still; her body lay limp against his side. He slowly turned his head and found that her eyes were closed as her chest rose and fell in a soft rhythm. Arthur smiled at the realization that she felt secure enough in his presence to drift off to sleep, but she deserved a pillow with more cushion than his rough shoulder. Taking great caution not to wake her, Arthur gathered Guinevere into his arms and carried her over to the bed where he gently lowered her onto the mattress. His gaze swept over her, catching at the hem of her dress where two hard-soled slippers peaked out at him in the dancing glow of the hearth. For a moment, he hesitated, but the necessity of her comfort won out against the concern for impropriety, and he reached down to remove her shoes, attempting – yet failing – to ignore the sensations caused when his fingers brushed against the soft skin of her ankles.

Pulling back, Arthur glanced about the room to clear his mind and paused as his eyes came to rest on a nearby shelf that held an extra blanket. He retrieved it, spread it over Guinevere's sleeping form, and watched as she snuggled beneath the blanket's warmth. Arthur knew he should go; there was no reason for him to stay. Guards patrolled the streets, and she had lived alone in safety for quite some time. However, her backdoor could only be latched from the inside. Were he to leave now, he would have to leave that door unlocked, allowing anyone to walk inside. Returning to the castle would be pointless, for Arthur knew he'd never get any rest with the knowledge that Guinevere slept behind an unbolted door while someone like Jeffries lodged in Camelot. His decision made, Arthur scanned the room once more – this time searching for a position that would keep him out of view should anyone happen to glance in one of the windows – and found that his best option was to sit beside the bed. At least he would have a pleasant view, he reasoned with a smile as he lowered himself down onto the floor. With his back against the wall and the sound of Guinevere's gentle breathing whispering against the side of his face, Arthur settled in to keep watch over the one handmaiden in all the kingdom whose mere glance held sway over Camelot's future king.

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><p><strong>That is all for now. More will be coming soon. Please review and let me know what you think.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2: The Lady Vanishes

**Author's Note: Thank you to all those who reviewed my first chapter. I appreciated your thoughts very much. Life has been very hectic of late, so my second chapter has taken a bit longer to post than I first anticipated. Thank you for being patient. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you did the last.**

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><p><span>The Lady Vanishes<span>

The embers on the hearth were slowly dying when Gwen awoke to the quiet darkness just before the dawn. Her eyes fluttered open, glancing at the shadows cast by the dim firelight. Slowly the dreamy haze of slumber lifted, and Gwen came to realize that she was still wearing her clothes from the day before. Why had she not changed for bed? The last thing she remembered was staring into the fire while sitting beside –

"Arthur!" His name rushed from her lips in a hushed whisper that brought a low grunt from the side of the bed. Turning her head to the side, Gwen almost gasped at the sight of the crowned prince sitting on the floor, his head propped against her mattress as though it were a pillow. For a moment, she merely stared, wondering if her eyes were deceived. Tentatively, she reached out from beneath the blanket and brushed a few strands of hair from his brow, assuring herself that he was no apparition. The movement caused him to stir, and he turned his face toward her touch, causing Gwen's heart to skip a beat as his cheek brushed against her palm. His eyes gradually opened, and he turned to capture her in a blaze of blue that stole her breath away. What would it be like to be greeted with such a gaze each morning?

The moment the thought entered her mind, Gwen dismissed its absurdity. She was nothing more than a servant in the Pendragon household. She had no right to entertain such notions, and yet it was no mere whim of fancy that Arthur sat beside her bed, gracing her with a sleepy grin. Gwen knew he had been there all night, keeping guard as though she were the daughter of a nobleman whose well being mattered more than his comfort. The knowledge sent a pleasant tingling sensation down her spine, reminding her of the night he'd saved her from the dragon. _I wasn't going to let anything happen to you._ The memory brought a soft smile to her lips, which was immediately followed by a gentle blush as Gwen realized that her fingers still rested against Arthur's cheek. She quickly drew her hand back beneath the blanket but her rebellious eyes refused to relinquish contact with his warm gaze.

"Good morning, Guinevere," he murmured, his deep voice encircling her with a sense of security, much as his arms had done the night before. Gwen found herself constantly captivated by the sound of her name proceeding from his lips. Had it always sounded like that of a lady, or was the word lent a noble quality by his mere resonance?

"Good morning, my lord," she replied, burying the questions generated by his proximity. Now was not the time to ponder such things. The first light of dawn would soon creep over the horizon, awaking the residents of the lower town and causing them to stir. Reluctantly, she pushed herself up to a sitting position. She ignored the fact that his eyes followed her but was unable to withhold the warmth that flooded her cheeks – much less the shock of awareness that shuddered through her frame – as her bare foot grazed his leg. "Forgive me, sire, I – " Gwen met Arthur's gaze, and the apology faded from her mind.

If he stared at her like that much longer, she would forget her station and his title altogether. _It can never be,_ the voice of reason whispered only to conjure Gaius' words to her heart's defense. _Never underestimate the power of love. I've seen it change many things._ The physician's council brought her hope, but discretion was the more pressing need at the current hour. It took all of Gwen's willpower to turn away from Arthur and find safe footing before rising from her bed. "You must go while it is still dark," she finally managed to whisper before hurrying to the back window and glancing out to ensure that all was quiet. Satisfied that her neighbors had yet to wake, she turned to fetch Arthur and nearly collided with his chest. How he had managed to rise and approach her with such stealth, she would never know. Gwen only hoped he could return to the castle in the same manner.

Silence reigned once more and, when he did not move, Gwen looked up to find that he seemed hesitant to leave, as though needing assurance that she would be all right. Instinctively, her hand rose to the side of his face, her earlier shyness forgotten as she murmured, "Go home, Arthur; get some rest. And thank you," she added, "for everything."

"It was my pleasure," he softly replied. Then, to her surprise, Arthur bent down, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek, before disappearing out the backdoor and fading into the last hovering shadows of darkness. Gwen remained there, leaning her head against the door facing and staring into the haze through which Arthur had vanished, until the first rays of dawn broke across the sky. She pulled herself from her reverie, closed the door, confirmed it was locked, and then set about preparing for the day.

Gwen had washed, changed her clothing, and eaten breakfast before she was able to push her reflections of Arthur to the back of her mind. She had a busy day ahead and reminiscing over events that could never lead to anything more….Gwen brushed the thoughts aside as she rose to put away her dishes and tidy her house, focusing instead on the task at hand. With her morning chores completed, Gwen retrieved her cloak, tying it loosely about her shoulders, and headed out into the morning bustle of the lower town. Her walk to the castle was a pleasant one, and she was soon crossing the bridge into the courtyard.

"You seem really happy," was Kaelyn's greeting as she joined Gwen at the servants' entrance. "You've barely smiled since Lady Morgana's disappearance. Today you nearly beam with joy."

"You exaggerate, surely," Gwen replied. "It is a beautiful morning, nothing more." The auburn haired maid gave her a searching look but let the matter drop as they were approached by another servant who informed them that Durwood wished them to gather in the kitchen's antechamber. The women made their way to the room that served as a dining area for the castle staff and found that many of the servants had already assembled at Durwood's request. They joined the group and waited for his arrival.

A few minutes later the man responsible for directing the flow of the castle's staff appeared and informed them that their daily assignments were to be temporarily changed. Kaelyn shot her a confused look, and Gwen quickly imitated the surprise she saw on the faces of the others. Durwood was acting on Arthur's orders, but Gwen had no reason to know this and so she pretended to be as puzzled by the announcement as the rest. They each listened as they were assigned their new duties. When Durwood was finished, he dismissed the staff and sent them to their tasks. Kaelyn turned away from the gathering with a disgruntled sigh that caught Gwen's attention.

"Is everything all right?" she asked, gaining a frustrated grin in response.

"Yes, I just wish I hadn't been assigned the library is all," Kaelyn explained. "All that old parchment….It makes me sneeze something fierce. Besides, the court genealogist is always so sour. He scowls worse than my mother when I've done something wrong." Gwen smiled at the description. Geoffrey of Monmouth could be a formidable taskmaster, but he only wished for his books to be handled with extreme care. "You are lucky," Kaelyn was saying, "to have been assigned to the palace gardens instead."

"Why don't we switch duties?" Gwen suggested.

"Really?" The relief in Kaelyn's voice was almost comical. "Are you sure?"

"I am," Gwen replied. She knew Kaelyn would enjoy the outdoors much more than the confined spaces of the library. Besides, Gwen doubted she would run into the Kabbagian delegate there. The man did not seem the type to enjoy the written word, but even if he did venture into the library, the genealogist would watch him like a hawk and probably frighten him away before he even discovered her presence.

Kaelyn gave her a bright smile before hurrying off to see to the gardens. Gwen left the room as well, keeping to the servants' passages as she hastened to report for duty. The custodian of Camelot's records acknowledged her entrance with a frown and sent her off down a back isle to begin dusting. Without a word, Gwen set to work, thankful for a job that would allow her to remain out of sight for the rest of the day.

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Merlin glanced back at the guard patrolling the corridor. It had to be the fifth one he'd passed in the last ten minutes. Had something happened that he had yet to hear about? Merlin had spent the morning helping Gaius gather herbs for his various remedies; he had not been inside the castle walls for most of the day. Now, as he made his way to Arthur's chambers, he wondered at the increased presence of guard and the apparent lack of servants – or at least serving women – in the castle halls.

"Ah, Merlin, there you are," Arthur's voice echoed down the passageway. He turned to see his master approaching from a smaller corridor to his left. Merlin altered his course, meeting Arthur halfway.

"I'm sorry I'm late." The apology seemed grossly understated even to his own ears. It was already well past midday. "I was helping Gaius." When Arthur dismissively brushed off his excuse without the usual caustic retort, he asked, "What's going on?" The footsteps of a passing watchman caused Merlin to frown as he added, "Why are there so many guards about?" Arthur looked to see that no one was near before returning his attention to Merlin.

"Our visitor is not to be trusted," was his response. Merlin's frown deepened as did his curiosity.

"You think Lord Jeffries is a sorcerer?" The man was something of a mystery, but he couldn't imagine the Kabbagian representative using magic.

"No," Arthur solemnly answered, "I believe him to be an arrogant bollocks." Merlin's eyes widened at the insult, prompting Arthur to add, "He attacked Gwen last night."

"Is she all right?" Arthur's antagonism no longer seemed out of place. Merlin not only understood but shared his anger, for there was no one kinder than Gwen. He made no attempt to hide his own animosity. "Did he hurt her?"

"She was frightened but not harmed," Arthur assured him. "Jeffries has been warned." His tone grew darker as he added, "Any repetition of such behavior, and I will kill him myself." Merlin did not have to be told that Arthur had been the one to stop Jeffries' assault; the prince's demeanor said it all. Given Arthur's feelings for Gwen, the Kabbagian was fortunate to have escaped the confrontation with his life and limbs intact. Then again, as Merlin recalled, Arthur had not worn his sword to dinner last night. His lack of a weapon more than likely accounted for Jeffries' survival. Oblivious to Merlin's thoughts, Arthur continued, "Durwood is reassigning the women to work in areas that will keep them from his presence, and I doubled the guard to keep watch on our unwelcome guest."

"Is there anything I can do?" _Apart from turning him into a toad?_ Merlin stifled the thought as soon as it surfaced, knowing that Jeffries' sudden disappearance would arouse suspicion.

"No, just keep an eye out for him while you work." Arthur continued down the hall but paused after a few steps and turned back. "Don't worry about mucking out the horses today." For the briefest moment, Arthur allowed a chink in his armor, hinting at the trust he usually denied but nonetheless placed in Merlin. "Stay close to the castle." _Look after Gwen_. The unspoken request hung between them.

"Yes, sire," he replied, acknowledging the underlying order with a nod. Satisfied, Arthur turned away once more and headed down the hall, withdrawing from sight as he rounded the corner.

Merlin decided that he would need to be discrete in asking where Gwen had been reposted. Without Morgana to summon her, there was little reason for him to seek her out. Announcing that Arthur had asked him to guard her was not an option. As he went to straighten Arthur's chambers, Merlin realized that the task he'd been given would be a tricky one. Would life in Camelot ever be simple? His own words came back to haunt him, _No, you'd get bored._ Rounding the corner, Merlin smiled to himself as he realized the truth of his own council. The difficulty of his errand only served to prove that this was but another day in Camelot.

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The first thing Arthur noticed upon joining his father for dinner was Jeffries' absence. His next observation was that Durwood had assigned only pages and errand boys to serve the food; even Merlin stood against the wall with a pitcher in his hands. He was thankful for Durwood's diligence, but he was even more grateful that Jeffries was not at the table. Though he had not seen the man all day, he'd dreaded the thought of sharing the evening meal with their "guest." Perhaps his threat had prodded Jeffries into remaining in his chambers; Arthur could only hope the slime did not seep back out from under his rock until his departure from Camelot. However, glowering throughout supper would draw unwanted attention, so Arthur pushed his thoughts aside and settled in to listen as his father informed him of plans for building a mill in one of the outlying villages. They had finished the first two courses of the meal before propriety demanded that he ask after their missing visitor.

"I see that Lord Jeffries does not dine with us tonight," Arthur stated in a casual tone.

"He set out for Kabbagia just before noon," Uther acknowledged. "With his business concluded, he was eager to return home." Arthur's relief did not go unobserved. "You did not care for him?"

"I fear I might have caused his hasty departure," Arthur confessed, forcing as much remorse into his tone as he could muster. Uther's sharp gaze demanded an explanation, and Arthur proceeded cautiously. "Last night I caught him mishandling a serving girl. I _may_ have been a bit brusque when cautioning him that our women were not to be mistreated." The words were a gross understatement that nearly caused Merlin to knock over the cup he refilled, but Arthur ignored him, keeping his eyes focused on his father instead.

"You were right to reprimand him," Uther replied. "But I doubt the confrontation was his reason for leaving. I suggested that he return to his king's service." Arthur met his father's admission with a questioning look. "I did not care for Lord Jeffries either," Uther admitted. "As you said, his behavior toward the serving girls was distasteful to say the least." Then, he added with disgust, "The man actually wanted to purchase Morgana's maid." Arthur's glass froze in midair as his father continued, "I turned him down, of course." Slowly, he lowered his drink, thankful that the king had not noticed his reaction. "I decided then that I no longer wanted him here. He left an hour later." Arthur nodded in response and tried to quench the rising sense of dread.

He had not seen Guinevere since returning to the castle. Durwood had changed everyone's routine, which might account for the fact that he had not caught a glimpse of her. Yet, Jeffries' interest in her and subsequent departure were cause for worry. Arthur caught sight of Merlin's expression and felt his insides turn cold. As soon as it was prudent, he dismissed himself from the table and waited for Merlin to join him in the hall.

"Where's Guinevere?" he demanded without preamble.

"I don't know," Merlin replied in a worried voice. "I went to check on her after I finished tidying your chambers, but I couldn't find her." Then, realizing the effect of his words, he added, "Everyone has been moved about. Maybe she's just in another part of the castle. I only searched the main areas before being called to serve at the table." Arthur acknowledged his explanation with a nod. She could simply have been stationed somewhere out of sight, but he had to be sure.

"Ask Durwood what her post was for the day." Merlin gave him that same quizzical look he always wore when he thought Arthur was assigning him a task out of pure laziness. At times, Merlin was right, he did send his servant to do things he could just as easily do himself. Tonight, however, his orders were prompted by something more. "I cannot question Durwood; I've no reason to summon Gwen."

"I've no right to summon her at all," Merlin replied. "What do I tell him when he asks why I'm searching for her?" He had a point. Arthur knew that Durwood frowned on fraternization amongst the staff. His staunch hand in keeping the servants on task was one of the reasons he had been made head of the household.

"Tell him that Gaius has need of her," Arthur said. "Better yet, have Durwood send for Gwen; say that she's been ordered to assist the court physician. He will pass the message to the other servants; the more searching for her, the faster she'll be found."

"What happens when Gwen shows up at Gaius' door and he has no idea why she's been sent?" Merlin wanted to know.

"After you've spoken to Durwood, tell Gaius that if Gwen comes to his quarters he is to keep her there until you return," Arthur ordered. "Then I want you to go to the lower town; she may simply be at home. I'll speak with the stablemen and the guards at the gate to ensure Jeffries left alone. If Gwen is not at her house, check back with Gaius, and then meet me by the statue in the courtyard."

"You think Jeffries might have taken her." It was more a statement than a question, proving that Merlin shared his concern.

"Hopefully, she is safe here in Camelot," Arthur responded, keeping his worries at bay. "We just need to find her." Merlin nodded in agreement.

"I'll go find Durwood," he stated before ducking down a small corridor that led to the kitchens. Arthur turned and headed for the first group of guards stationed outside in the courtyard.

Half an hour later he had questioned the guards at the gates and the stablemen, receiving the same disturbing news. No one had actually seen Jeffries of Kabbagia leave, but his horse was gone and his quarters were empty. Arthur had checked them himself to be sure. Now, as he neared the rendezvous point, the anxious look on Merlin's face served only to strengthen his sense of dread.

"She wasn't at home," Merlin told him as soon as he reached the statue. "Durwood assigned her to the gardens, but none of the staff saw her there today. No one has seen her since she arrived at the castle this morning. If Jeffries has taken her, what do we do? The king won't send knights after the Kabbagian representative for a servant."

"Then we ride alone," Arthur replied. "Go to the armory and fetch a crossbow, then come to my chambers. If anyone asks, tell them I am going hunting." He did not wait for Merlin's response as he took to the steps that led up into the castle. It was only a slight deception, for Arthur planned to track Jeffries like the animal he was. If he had not abducted Guinevere, he would have a princely escort to the kingdom's border, but if Jeffries had taken her…Gwen's condition would determine just how pain_less_ or pain_ful_ the man's death would be. Unbidden, the memory of Jeffries' behavior the night before rose to torment Arthur's thoughts. If he had dared to be so bold within Camelot's walls, what might he do with no one to counter his will? The question pounded through his mind like a relentless drum as Arthur ran up the stairway leading to his rooms. He had to find Jeffries for the sake of his own sanity. If his actions brought discord with Kabbagia, so be it. Arthur would face his father's anger and even risk the threat of war, all for the love a woman; all for Guinevere.

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><p><strong>That is all for now. I hope you liked it. Please let me know what you think.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3: A Comedy of Errors

**Author's Note: Thank you everyone for your reviews. The encouragement was greatly appreciated. Here is the final chapter for this story. I wish to ****thank Anaisnine for inspiring the chapter's title. One**** note about this section, there is a moment where Gwen's sensibilities may seem too easily overcome with emotionalism, but I was working from the angle that she's had a very long day and she's tired. Even the strongest women tend to be a bit emotional at the end of a tiring day. That said, I hope you find the conclusion of "For the Love of a Woman" to be an adequate one.**

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><p><span>A Comedy of Errors<span>

Gwen released a satisfied sigh as she glanced over her handiwork. It had not been easy, but the library was spotless. She had managed to not only dust and sweep but brush the cobwebs from the corners before scrubbing the floors clean. She was tired and hungry, having worked through lunch, but the room looked better than it had in several months. Not that she condemned those who usually tidied the chamber, for she was certain the court genealogist routinely frightened them out of the library before they could do a thorough job. He had given her his best scowls as well; but, with her determination to give the room a proper cleaning, Gwen had chosen to ignore him. Now she could return home, content with her accomplishment.

Pulling the door closed, she made her way along the hall and turned the bend into another corridor. Halfway down it, she belatedly realized her path would take her directly past Lord Jeffries' quarters. To her left was a servants' stairwell that led up to the next floor, and Gwen altered her course. She could go up two flights, cross to the other side of that hall, and descend down into a back passageway that would allow her to leave through the palace kitchens. Though it would be considerably longer, avoiding the Kabbagian's presence would be worth the extended trek Gwen decided as she hurried up the steps.

She reached the upper levels without any problem and headed down the corridor, noting that the door of Arthur's chambers stood open. Gwen resisted the urge to glance inside and was just passing the prince's rooms when a hand wrapped about her upper arm and jerked her through the doorway. Before she knew what was happening, Gwen heard the door swing closed as she was wrapped in an embrace so tight it would have taken a dozen knights to pry her loose.

"Guinevere!" Arthur's voice thundered down about her. "Good god woman! Where have you been?" He managed to sound both furious and relieved in the same breath, leaving Gwen to wonder what had happened.

"In the library," came her sheepish answer. Had she done something wrong? Surely Arthur wouldn't care that she'd traded jobs with another servant. How would he even know? What would it matter? The questions shot across her mind, one after another, like arrows from a bow. Given his tone, Gwen felt she should give a better explanation. "It took all day to get the room presentable."

The silence that greeted her words made Gwen nervous. Was he angry? She couldn't tell, for he held her so closely that she could not pull back to see his face, and the tension in his body did little to ease her apprehension. Were they in danger? Was some sorcerer prowling the streets of Camelot, reeking havoc on the population? No, if that were true, Arthur would be out facing the threat instead of standing in his chambers crushing her to his body as though she might otherwise vanish. This left her to wonder what exactly was going on. A moment later, her confusion only increased when his chest began to rumble against her cheek as his laughter burst forth, washing over her like a cresting wave.

"My lord?" Gwen's bewilderment gave way to annoyance when Arthur's only response was to continue laughing. "I fail to see the humor of this situation, sire." Her irritation sobered him a bit, and he loosened his arms enough that she might lean back and meet his gaze.

"I am sorry, Guinevere," Arthur replied, though his eyes sparkled as if he'd just won a jousting tournament. "It was wrong of me to startle you." His repentant tone once more brimmed with restrained mirth as he added, "I just never imagined I would be so grateful for a clean library." Her puzzled frown suggested he explain. "I thought –" Before he could continue, the servant's door flew open, and Merlin rushed in carrying a crossbow and several arrows. He slid to a halt at the sight of them, but Arthur refused to release her. Merlin, however, seemed more focused on her presence than her current position in the prince's embrace.

"Gwen! You're okay!" There was no mistaking the pure gratitude in his voice as he visibly relaxed. She glanced from Merlin to Arthur and sensed that they were both immensely relieved that she was here in the castle. Where did they think she had gone?

"Yes, Merlin," she stated, "I'm fine." Gwen tried to ignore the warmth creeping up her neck. It was somewhat disconcerting standing in Arthur's arms as though she belonged there. Merlin, of course, knew of their feelings. The knowledge had led him to seek her help in breaking Arthur's enchantment with Lady Vivian. Even so, protocol demanded certain tenets be upheld. Yet, both men seemed oblivious to the absurdity of the crowned prince holding a mere maid like a treasure he would not relinquish. Their cryptic behavior and fervent interest in her wellbeing prompted her to add, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, we thought – that is…" Merlin's stammering explanation faded into silence as though he were suddenly at a loss for words.

"Jeffries left for Kabbagia without any witnesses," Arthur clarified, all hints of laughter gone. "When we couldn't find you, we feared the worst."

"You thought he had taken me with him?" The idea seemed absurd, and yet…. "Why?" Both men exchanged a guarded look, implying that neither wished to divulge their reasons. She knew instinctively that Arthur would not be goaded into giving her more information. Looking across the room she prompted, "Merlin?"

"He wanted to buy you from Uther," he reluctantly answered. "The king turned him down, and he left soon after." The information struck Gwen like a sudden blow. She thought of the leers Jeffries had given the serving women, the incident in the corridor the night before, the implications of his offer to purchase her; and the trembling began, followed by a weakening of the knees that would have sent her to the floor had she not already been encircled by Arthur's arms.

"Guinevere?" His worried tone cut through her dizzy haze, and Gwen forced herself to focus on Arthur as her mind clawed its way back from the brink of unconsciousness.

"I'm fine," she managed to say, though even she had to admit that she sounded far from it. "I'm just a little lightheaded; I haven't eaten much today."

"Merlin, fetch some food," Arthur ordered, before she could protest, and Merlin rushed from the room. Arthur brushed his fingers against her cheek, drawing her gaze. "Do you want to lie down? Or perhaps a chair?" Gwen merely shook her head no and buried her face in the cloth of his shirt. Though her pragmatic conscience cautioned against it, she could think of no better place to seek safety than his strong embrace. Several minutes passed in silence before he leaned down, his cheek resting against her temple as he asked, "Shall I track Jeffries down and beat him over the head with a lance?" The light tone with which he made the offer served to lighten her mood. "Or maybe Merlin can boil him alive…." Unbidden, the comical image of poor Merlin accidentally boiling the man in his own bathwater darted across her mind, causing Gwen to muffle the sudden spurt of laughter against his shirt.

Once the smattering of soft giggles had passed, she turned her face toward his and ventured, "Or poison him with rat soup?"

"Indeed." Arthur's reply brimmed with his own amusement. Then, hugging her closer, he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. A moment later, there was a knock at the door, and Gwen reluctantly stepped out of his arms, causing his annoyance at the interruption to seep into his voice as he called for the intruder to enter.

Arthur relaxed upon seeing Merlin appear with a plate of fruit and cheese in one hand and a pitcher in the other. He placed them both on the table before producing a cup from his pocket and filling it to the brim with cool water. With the meal set out, Arthur turned to Guinevere and saw the reluctance in her gaze. Taking her hand, he ushered her into his chair before she could decline the food, and stated, "You must eat," with just enough authority to dissuade her from rejecting the offer. Her eyes locked with his, forewarning him that she planned to argue the impropriety of a servant dining at the prince's table, but he quickly added, "Or I will have Merlin prepare some of his special soup."

"Very well, sire," Guinevere conceded, the resignation of her voice barely masking her amusement at his gentle teasing. Merlin stood to the side, watching them with a confused look that was rather laughable, but Arthur chose not to explain. He turned instead to retrieve his sword and belt from the lid of the trunk where he had tossed them upon catching sight of Guinevere in the hall. He felt she would not be comfortable with an audience while she ate, and so he returned the sword to its cupboard. Merlin came up beside him, holding the crossbow and arrows that were no longer needed.

"Shall I return these to the armory?" he asked, a slight hint of weariness creeping into his tone.

"No," Arthur replied. Merlin had been scurrying about the castle most of the day doing errands for him and Gaius alike. "Leave them. I'll use them for target practice in the morning." Besides, he had one more chore for his servant. "When Guinevere has eaten, I want you to walk her home."

"Yes, of course," Merlin readily agreed. Arthur would have seen to the task himself, but he could not travel at her side without arousing suspicion. Following her as he had the night before would only double the chances of someone catching a glimpse of him in the moonlight. Arthur did not fear being seen with a servant but rather the effect to her reputation were she to be seen strolling about with the prince after dark. Public opinion could be cruel in its ability to forgive the nobility of dalliances while ripping a handmaiden's dignity to shreds. Last night, he could not stay away, but tonight he must.

Unaware of the thoughts playing through his mind, Guinevere finished her meal with a last sip of water and pushed away from the table. Merlin hurried to collect the dishes and disappeared with them before she could protest. She started to follow him out the door, but Arthur blocked her path, drawing her warm brown eyes to settle on his face. How could the gaze of one woman affect him so? Yes, he had fallen prey to the effects of enchantment before, but this was different. Unlike those sentiments born of false affections, the feelings that swept him now were pure and strong – like glimpsing the sun and knowing that mere fire would forever pale by comparison.

"I should go," she said softly, but Arthur could not bring himself to move aside without one last gesture. Catching her hand in his, he bent to brush a gentle kiss against her smooth skin. As he straightened, his eyes met hers, pulling him to a halt only inches from her face. The draw was immediate, but Arthur hesitated, concerned that she might feel obliged to answer the longing of the future king in spite of her own wishes. Guinevere, however, soon put his worries to rest when she slid her free hand around his neck and pulled him closer. Arthur gladly accepted the invitation and claimed her lips with his own. Everything melted away, leaving just the two of them clinging to one another in a surge of emotion too powerful for words. In a single moment, Arthur felt both stronger and weaker as though the meaning of his existence could be found in Guinevere's arms were he given enough time to search it out. Only when the fire of their embrace threatened to devour them, did they gradually pull away, avoiding the break of contact until the very last.

Arthur stared down into Guinevere's eyes much as he had done the morning she saw him off to joust. On that occasion he had not been certain of his motivations, but he knew that his world had forever changed with that one kiss. Now, as he gazed at her, he felt he'd changed again, become a better man by the grace of her blessed lips. Together they stood, basking in the serenity that seemed to permeate the room, awash with one another's presence, when a sharp knock pierced their contentment.

Arthur ignored the jolt of loss as Guinevere quickly moved away and schooled his features to a placid expression as he turned to see Merlin once more hurrying into the room. His servant glanced between the two of them, but did not say a word. Instead, Guinevere moved toward the door, stating, "I must go."

"Let me see you home," Merlin spoke up, attempting to ignore the underlying currents in the air. Gwen accepted with a quiet smile while Arthur, he noticed, simply gave a silent nod. Merlin watched as Gwen swept out into the hallway, and Arthur turned away before walking over to the window. Merlin followed Gwen out the door, quickening his pace to fall in step with her as she moved down the corridor.

He didn't need his magical powers to tell him he had interrupted something in the prince's chambers. Not only had Arthur neglected to dismiss him with his regular arrogance, but Gwen silently walked beside him, absorbed in her own thoughts. Merlin was not bothered by her silence and continued alongside her as they traversed the various passages and stairways. He knew what it was to love in secret; the stolen moments he'd shared with Freya still haunted his dreams. He could only hope the fate of his friends would hold more promise.

_It's just talk, and that's all it can ever be_, Arthur's words echoed through his memory. Merlin suppressed a wry grin as he and Gwen left the castle and started across the courtyard. Though the two of them might use the excuse as a shield; they had proven their feelings to be much more than mere words. He had seen Arthur go to great lengths to secure Gwen's safety, while Gwen had been the sole reason for Arthur's survival when facing King Olaf. Merlin was confident that the boundaries standing between them would vanish once Arthur was king. Even now, they were drawn together, Merlin noted, as Gwen glanced back over her shoulder and he followed her gaze to see the prince silhouetted against the torch lit glow of his room.

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Arthur watched as Merlin and Guinevere crossed the square below. For the briefest moment he was graced by a last glimpse of her face before she disappeared into the shadows of the night. Though he rarely acknowledged it, he was thankful for Merlin's service. Arthur trusted his discretion; his companionship was the closest thing to actual friendship that an heir to the throne could expect. He had spoken of his feelings for Guinevere with no one else.

_How can I admit that I think about her all the time? Or that I care about her more than anyone?_ Arthur had meant every word. Tonight he had tasted the raw knowledge of what he might do if any harm came to her. Once more, Jeffries of Kabbagia sprung to the foreground of his thoughts, followed by Guinevere's assertion, _I am not the only serving woman to need protection from Lord Jeffries' advances._ He would order Sir Leon to ride out and escort the man to Camelot's borders. It was a precautionary step that might seem excessive to his father, but it was not the king's approval he sought in the matter. Arthur would risk overstepping his authority for no other reason save the love of a woman; he would do it for Guinevere.

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><p><strong>There you have it; the final act of "For the Love of a Woman." Hope you were not disappointed. Thank you for reading, and please let me know what you thought.<strong>


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